


Do we count as heroes even though we steal shit?

by carnivorousbunnyrabbit



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And everyone's gay, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In which the Phantom Thieves are legitimate vigilantes in real life and the Metaverse, M/M, More characters to be added, Multi, Team as Family, implied depression, kamoshida is the Worst, the previous tag is canon but i won't write it because that's fucked bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnivorousbunnyrabbit/pseuds/carnivorousbunnyrabbit
Summary: In a world where 80% of people have superpowers called "quirks", Akira Kurusu manages be the one quirkless teenager who gets a falsified criminal record for assault. Akira has no clue how that happened.Akira and the other Phantom Thieves steal the corrupted hearts of heroes, villains, and civilians at day and kick villain ass at night. As they continue pursuing their justice, they uncover the gritty truth beneath the hero industry, government, and society itself.[A P5-centric story where the plot takes place in the world of "My Hero Academia", with all your favorite characters from both series. The timelines in each series occurs around the same time.]





	1. Journal Entry 1: i avoided a near death situation so now i have friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira hates his life until he almost loses it, Morgana's tired of explaining the difference between personas and quirks, and Ryuji hugs it out with his new best friend.

Maybe there was a part of Akira that wanted to cry, but it was overwhelmed by a budding, hot anger that welled up in his stomach.

 

His memories overlaps with his parents’ silent, judgemental fury, the oppressive air of that courtroom, and the handcuffs that dug deep into his wrists. He touches his wrists from time to time, reassuring himself it’s not there. This entire situation is bullshit.

 

What kind of _quirkless_ kid gets stuck with a record for _assault_?

 

Apparently one who’s ‘misdirected internalized hostility about their own disability and decided to use violence as an outlet.’ They weren’t wrong about the internalized anger, Akira thinks bitterly. But he already knows better than to fight back against others. It wasn’t as if he needs another reason for his parents to be disappointed in him.

 

They've been disappointed since his doctor confirmed he's quirkless, so what's the point in impressing them? Saving a woman from harrassment and rape? Let the heroes handle that and keep your head down.

 

Weariness seeps into his bones. The condescending looks from his caretaker, principal, and new homeroom teacher cemented it. Akira could already tell that they were just using him to make the school look good. A ‘quirkless delinquent turned proper citizen’ title would be a fine storyline for a well-known high school like Shujin Academy. If not, they could just as easily toss him out with one misplaced step. Akira rubs the space between his eyebrows.

 

A gorgeous girl with a hoodie stands next to Akira and gives him a fleeting smile. She gets in the car with a friendly man and her blue eyes dim, downcast as the sky above her.

 

A vulgar boy with bleached yellow hair passes by Akira, cursing after the departed car with a, “Damn that pervy teacher!”

 

Akira, his curiosity peaked, looks at the back of the teenager’s head. “Pervert teacher?”

 

His whole world turns over in a matter of minutes.

 

* * *

 

 

“D-dude, this is _insane_.” The newly-introduced Ryuji paces on the rooftop, panic skewing his features. It would be amusing if Akira didn’t feel the same overwhelming disbelief. “It wasn’t a dream, right? No, it can’t be… Kamoshida’s punches felt too goddamn real.”

 

Akira stares at his hands as the events unscramble itself in his head. Other than the reasonable confusion and doubt, excitement bubbles up in his chest.

 

The Metaverse, personas, Arsene… Is that what having a quirk felt like? Power thrumming through his hands, to his chest, to his brain. Akira could lose himself into this euphoria if he wants to. He barely fights off the urge to laugh. It’s ironic how he gets this now, after eleven years of bullying, isolation, disappointment, this absolute _hell-_

 

Akira looks up at Ryuji’s slow descent into madness as he rants to him. Maybe he should say something instead of getting lost in thought.

 

“Well, we could have shared a bad trip. Pleasure to experience that with you, Ryuji. Never thought we both had a kink for medieval European dungeons and bright pink underwear.” Bad. Bad Akira.

 

Ryuji stops pacing to look at Akira with disbelief. “We almost got _killed_ , and you’re pulling out bad jokes. Actually, it’s kinda weird that you’re...”

 

As Ryuji’s sentence fades off, Akira stiffens. His mouth opens without conscious thought. “That I’m… what? Incredibly handsome?”

 

Ryuji stumbles with his response, laughing nervously and fidgeting in his place. Akira shuts his mouth. Shit, he might have crossed a boundary there. His heart sinks. Is he already ruining another chance of friendship with his dumb, snarky mouth?

 

“Shaddup, man! No matter how well you’re pulling off that ‘cool composure’ vibe, you’re probably freaking over this shit too!”

 

Ryuji deflects, avoiding eye contact. “Anyway, we need to go back in there. We saw others in there, and I can’t sit down and let those people get tortured.”

 

Akira nods, not trusting himself to talk anymore. Before Akira could stand and leave, Ryuji gently nudges his arm.

 

“Hey, uh... You wanna go get ramen with me? I’ll pay,” Ryuji beams at Akira with the brightest, most sincere smile he’s ever witnessed. “It’s the least I can do after you saved my ass back there.”

 

A proper response got stuck in Akira’s throat. He tried his best not let shock flash through his face.

 

Ryuji raises his eyebrows. “C’mon man, I can’t wait for a response on an empty stomach. You in?”

 

“Sure.” The confirmed ‘yes’ comes out of Akira subconsciously, and he finds himself dragged by the wrist to a foreign section of Tokyo.

 

Akira does admit that Ryuji was right about how good the ramen is here, regardless of how much ginger Ryuji dumps in it. Akira’s glasses fog up as he digs right into his bowl. He might have nearly been killed today, but the trade-off of a new friend and great food isn’t half-bad.

 

* * *

 

 

“The Metaverse has nothing to do with quirks!”

 

“Wait wait wait... Then how the eff can something like this alternate dimension exist? Does that mean personas are different than quirks? This is way too complicated!”

 

Akira isn’t coping with the information better than Ryuji, to be fair. Sure, it explains how Morgana could sink into shadows in addition to having a persona, but…

 

“Does that mean everyone has the potential to have a persona?”

 

The other two stop arguing and turn their heads towards Akira. Akira itches at the two’s observant stares.

 

Morgana puts a paw (hand?) up to his face in thought. “Well, I mean, it’s possible, but they need a strong rebellious resolve in order to gain one. So, in other words, yes… I think?”

 

Akira should’ve felt disappointed, but for some reason, there’s a hint of relief in his chest. So, it’s not like he suddenly grew a quirk.

 

Sure, he detested being quirkless, but he knows it’s an integral part of him. Maybe he didn’t want to have a quirk like those who looked down on him. Now he’s useful and strong, even without the ‘right genes’, without something society wanted him to be born with. Ryuji’s voice tosses him out of his head.

 

Ryuji sighs and shakes his head. “What do you mean ya think?”

 

Morgana growls. “I don’t need your patronizing attitude, meathead! This is all hypothetical ground, anyway.”

 

“Oh, sure, but aren’t you supposed to be an expert on the Metaverse?”

 

“That’s! Um!”

 

Before the two could fight again, Akira steps between them. “Whether or not Morgana knows about the subject completely, he does bring light into this situation. The more information we gain about the Metaverse, the more we understand Kamoshida’s castle and how we can get through our enemies.”

 

Morgana purrs in agreement. “A brilliant idea, as expected from someone with your potential!”

 

“So…” Ryuji hums in thought. “Does that mean I could have a persona, even with my quirk?”

 

Morgana rolls his eyes. “Yes, you idiot.” Morgana’s ear twitches as he curiously looks up at the blonde. “Speaking of quirks… I’ve never seen you two use any. It might be useful to have a backup other than our personas, so if you shouldn’t feel obligated to hide them. Especially you, Ryuji, ‘cause you don’t have a persona.”

 

Akira freezes in place. He feels the insides of his gloves clam up with sweat and grime. He isn’t ready. He isn’t ready for the disappointed and pitying looks from either of them. It’s a trade off, right? In the Metaverse, Igor grants him the power of an almighty jack-of-all trades, and in reality he’s still the weak, pathetic-

 

“My quirk isn’t useful at all.”

 

Akira blinks and turns towards Ryuji, who looks as uncomfortable as Akira is.

 

“I know it’d be nice if we had more ‘umph’ in our battle tactics with quirks, but mine is…” Ryuji bites his bottom lip. “I don’t like talking about it.”

 

Morgana gives a curt nod and Ryuji visibly sags in relief. “That’s alright. I only wanted to clarify that quirks do work in the Metaverse, but it probably won’t affect shadows as much as personas will. Even if you have one that isn’t combat oriented, it doesn’t hurt to have an upper hand in other things, like an info-gathering or healing-based quirk.

 

“For now, let’s disclose this meeting and go deeper into the dungeon!”

 

All the sudden, everything clicked. The curly-haired teen always wondered why Ryuji never asked about Akira’s quirk, or in this case, lack thereof. It’s generally one of the very first things friends ask each other; at least Akira assumes that’s what they do. Instead, Ryuji openly talks about other subjects, sometimes even skirting away from topics relating to quirks with wandering eyes.

 

Akira grabs Ryuji’s shoulder and murmurs a small, “Thank you.”

 

Ryuji grins at Akira’s masked face. “No problem. It’s not like I’m the only one who doesn’t have an ultra useful quirk or a quirk they don’t like, right?”

 

Akira couldn’t particularly sympathize with that. He can never understand people who aren’t satisfied by having one in the first place. But, at least Ryuji can somewhat understand Akira right now, and that’s all that Akira needs.

 

Akira smiles right back.

 

At the end of the day, there’s another near-death confrontation with Kamoshida and another persona awakening.

 

Akira notices the skip in Ryuji’s step as they leave the castle, even with the blatant exhaustion that shows on his face. An unnoticed fond grin rests on Akira.

 

* * *

 

 

This is bullshit.

 

“This is complete bullshit!”

 

Yes, Ryuji, it really is. Akira feels a migraine coming in. Maybe they weren’t using a better method (Akira’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to approach abuse victims with a ‘so, are you being physically abused or not?’). Yet, no matter how gentle and understanding Akira tries to come across as, they aren’t confessing. It’s frustrating when the evidence is _right there_.

 

“There’s something going on here beyond the hero students not stepping up,” Akira adds, twirling a stray hair from his bangs. “We know that Kamoshida’s a proficient pro hero, so-”

 

“You guys should stop.”

 

Akira and Ryuji both turn towards a battered, meek student. It's Mishima. Exhaustion oozes out of his posture and purple bruises peeks out of the bandages on his face and hands.

 

“We all know that Kamoshida’s doing these things… and we know that we can’t do anything against him.”

 

“Wha-?”

 

Mishima tosses Ryuji an irritated glance. “You out of all people should know this.”

 

Ryuji scowls and worry crosses Akira’s features. Mishima continues without acknowledging Ryuji’s death glare. “Kamoshida makes this school look good and even though his methods are… He gives everyone _results_. Kamoshida has lots of connections in the hero industry, and anyone who’s taught by him is guaranteed a career in heroics. So, stop trying to help. It’s hopeless.”

 

A pang of pained anger hit Akira. As he looks at Mishima’s injuries, the more he thinks of his own swollen wrists during the trial, the finger bruises on his shoulders and forearms. This time, there’s something he can do about this.

 

“Hey, Mishima!” Speak of the devil.

 

Kamoshida strolls by, his false, infuriating grin everso present on his face. “I was meaning to speak with you!” His upbeat tone dips down dangerously. “We’re going to have a one-on-one session today. Your technical skill with your magnetic repulsion is lacking compared to your peers’ control over their own individual quirks, so it’s essential to improve on them. We can’t let you fail the hero license examination _again_ , can we?”

 

Mishima winces, half-lidded eyes fixed to the ground. “I’m sorry Kamoshida, I’m… I need to go home. I’m coming down with a cold.”

 

Kamoshida eyes the boy down, as if his glare could pin the boy into the ground. “Oh, that’s too bad, Mishima. But, without keeping up in this class, I highly doubt I’d allow you to stay in the hero course…”

 

Fear flashes through Mishima’s eyes. Before Mishima could speak, Ryuji says a tauntingly casual, “Sorry Kamoshida, but Mishima says he’s sick, so he needs to stay home and rest up. It does take a lot of energy to train, after all. Training while being sick will only make his condition worse. ”

 

Alarm flashes through both Mishima’s and Akira’s eyes. Oh no.

 

“Oh, Sakamoto.” Cold eyes stare into the supposed bright-headed delinquent. “I… _appreciate_ your concern, but I’d rather you not hang around one of my students. I don’t want any bad influences to reach these potential upcoming heroes.”

 

Ryuji clenches his fists. “Whaddya say?”

 

Kamoshida grins and places his hands on his waist. “It’s too bad, Sakamoto. You used to be such a great athlete, a model student. But I suppose with a unstable history and quirk like yours, it’s impossible to stay mentally sound and rational. Completely unheroic, in my opinion.”

 

Ryuji grits his teeth as if he’s about to lash out at the teacher. Kamoshida takes a step forward, towering over him. “Can you feel what I could do to you?”

 

Ryuji flinches backward. Visceral fear flickers in his eyes, broad as daylight. Akira immediately clasped Ryuji’s arm and placed himself between him and Kamoshida.

 

Kamoshida clicks his tongue, eyes narrowed at Akira and Ryuji. “I got my eye on you two.”

 

As Kamoshida walks away, Akira feels Ryuji’s forehead planted on his back. Ryuji’s trembling. He clenches Akira’s uniform jacket as if it’s his last lifeline. Mishima glances at Akira and Ryuji, expression regretful and torn, before leaving the two behind.

 

Akira carefully guided Ryuji up to the school roof. Silence basks in the tension brewing within the blonde.

 

Once the roof door closes behind them, Ryuji repeatedly punches the wall next to the door. His breaths come out erratic and uneven. Ryuji’s head is turned away from Akira, as if he’s refusing to expose his face to him.

 

“That _fucking bastard_ ,” Ryuji shouts, voice cracking, muddled in sobs. His knuckles are splotches of red and white. “What a…! I couldn’t even stand my ground! And…!”

 

Akira stays quiet, but present, next to Ryuji. He lightly rubbing the space between his shoulders. Soon, Ryuji’s staggered breathing slows and he stops punching the wall. His fists stay clamped in a tight ball.

 

“My quirk is…” Akira almost assures Ryuji that he doesn’t need to tell him right now, but Ryuji shakes his head before Akira can speak. “Akira, I know that you’re worried right now. You’re so damn nice and sincere to me, to _everyone_ , without a second thought. But when I try and do something for you, you’re surprised and a little hurt in there too. It’s like you give and say the right things and don’t expect kindness back. You don’t feel like most people do when they’re around friends. Maybe no one did these things for you, taking you out for ramen and fun stuff like that.”

 

Akira pauses rubbing his back. Ryuji laughs emptily. “Yeah, you weren’t expecting that at all. Someone as thick-headed as me gets the quirk that can tell what others’ are feeling. It’s freaky and way too fucking nosy, but it’s not like I can turn off my quirk, right?

 

“But that’s why I flipped out when Kamoshida one upped me. He knew that I could feel… The closer people get to me, the stronger signals I get.” Ryuji leans forward and digs his fingers into his sides. “I swear to god he’d kill me if he had the chance to get away with it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone who hates me that much and… God, he wasn’t just angry. The sick bastard got fucking _turned on_ at the sight of me. I’m such a goddamn coward! I should have decked his ugly face or kicked his guts out, but I-!”

 

Ryuji lifts his face from hiding, frustrated, pained, and _scared_. Something stirs within Akira and his resolve turns to steel.

 

Akira reaches over and embraced his friend. “We’re going to show the asshole that he can’t get away with this abuse and harassment,” Akira tightens his hug, a confirmation of his words. “We have an option to fight back. Our justice is to make sure nasty adults like Kamoshida deserve _hell_ for what they do.”

 

Akira feels the other’s arms shift and hug back before both of them let go. Akira holds both of Ryuji’s damaged hands in support.

 

A shaky, but authentic smile spreads across his face. “Yeah, we’ll show the bastard who’s boss.”

 

Akira tenderly squeezes Ryuji’s hands before they part ways to home.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryuji walks to his apartment and gazes at the sparse stars in the polluted night sky. His heart rhymically beats against his eardrums. His hands sting from the impulsive abuse, but there’s this lingering warmth from where his new curly-haired friend caressed his fingers.

 

The thought slips away while he disinfects his hands and wraps it in bandages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Doesn't finish the next chapter of the bnha fic they're already writing and spouts out this crossover instead] Whoops, y'all didn't want this? Too bad.
> 
> I got inspiration after listening to the P5 soundtrack, so here's the Phantom Thieves with quirks?? Yeah.
> 
> I always loved how characters interact with each other and the world around them, so thinking of the dynamic Phantom Thieves in the "My Hero Academia" world made me want to write it out! Not to mention the fact I can expand on world-building and the meta around the hero/villain industry. There's a plethora of material that I can't wait to sink my teeth into!
> 
> So yeah. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Updates will be inconsistent, but for this fic, the chapters are longer than I usually write, so I pray that'll make up for my incompetence :').


	2. Journal Entry 2: so we might kill a teacher, but it's chill cause he's a terrible human being

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible event occurs. Ann joins the team, leaving a trail of shadow's ashes in her fury. Meanwhile, Ashido has a heated debate with friends.

Ann’s mother is Juksakka, the Hearth hero; an incredible, dauntless woman who specializes in rescue missions in cold areas around the world. Her mother radiates warmth to those almost lost in unrelenting snow. Over hundreds of people are saved due to her grueling work and seemingly limitless dedication. Juksakka is a genuine hero, inside and out.

 

As a child, Ann wailed, argued, and sighed over the absence of her parents. She felt that she was being deprived of something as a child. Maybe it was all that they missed in her childhood: the fairs, parent-teacher conferences, take-your-parent-to-school days. Ann spent most of her time with superficial friends, or alone.

 

One day, Ann started looking at the news more, at all those incredible heroes and the happy tears of those they saved. Ann understood where her parent’s obligations lie.

 

Even though it aches to realize they value the lives of others over their own daughter’s livelihood.

 

_Well, tough luck_ , Ann thought to herself. _Suck it up, smile, and bear it._

 

Heroes are supposed to be strong enough to stand with their own willpower. What kind of hero would she be if she lets her personal life get in her way? If Ann wants to be a hero, she can’t let these things get to her. She has to help herself.

 

Then Kamoshida happened, and everything fell apart.

 

Ann can’t take her eyes off her phone after he hung up. His voice rings numbly in her head. It feels like time slowed around her. As her breath quickens and staggers, her phone case dents inward from her reddening fingers. Molten plastic drips on the subway floor.

 

Shiho is the world to Ann. Ann dedicates herself to supporting and caring for her selfless, gentle best friend. But, how far can Ann go for her? Forcing herself to sell out for that revolting, unforgivable man? Is it selfish not to sacrifice herself for Shiho’s sake?

 

After what feels like an eternity, she looks up and spots a familiar face. It’s the new delinquent student.

 

A malevolent emotion cracks her organs like porcelain. This cannot be happening. This isn’t real.

 

“Were you eavesdropping on me?” Ann says. She can’t stop gripping her phone. The metal and glass starts giving. An inferno crackles within her stomach, flicking and burning her from the inside.

 

The boy frowns. “I walked by a couple of seconds before it ended. You don’t look alright-”

 

“ _Stop_ ,” Ann snaps and barely refrains herself from lashing out. White hot metal pokes between the gaps of her fingers. Smoke slips into the air. “Leave me alone.”

 

She runs off. She needs to find a space to breath, to cry, to stop activating her quirk, to not hurt anyone because of her own bullshit problems. Only a few minutes after taking off, the hallways spins around her vision. Did she take a wrong turn? Had she been here before?

 

Ann backs into a pillar. Her back slides down against the stable concrete.

 

Her breathing doesn’t ease up. It comes out in shudders and spasms. Her hands are still too hot to be safe for her to be near anyone or anything.

 

Oh god. She burned up her phone. How the hell is she going to be able to call Kamoshida back? How is she going to help Shiho now? Ann curls herself into a ball and hugs around her legs. She does her best to block out the world around her, of the indifferent, busybody crowd and loud subway trains.

 

Ann never felt so hopeless.

 

Something between a laugh and a sob escaped Ann. What a _hero_. She can’t even help herself, much less her best friend.

 

“Takamaki?”

 

Her breath hitched again before she answers. “Shouldn’t you mind your own business?”

 

There was a pause for a minute. She listens to rustling clothes. Ann gazes up to see the transfer student sitting across from her.

 

“... What do you want?” Her voice sounds awful against her ears. _Fuck_ , this is such a mess.

 

“I want to help you, so you feel safe. I’m not forcing you to talk, but you might need someone right now. I’m willing to listen.”

 

“And how can I trust you?” Ann scoffs, looking to focus on anything but him.

 

“I don’t expect you to, but at least use my phone so you can call for a lift home. I wouldn’t want people see me break down in public either.”

 

Ann blinks through her tears, reeling from his earnest statement. Her lips twitch upwards. “You’re weird, you know that? You saw me melt my phone. I could do the same to yours.”

 

“In that case, I guess I’ll save up and buy another one?” The transfer student rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, I’ll entrust you not to set my phone on fire.”

 

“Look,” Ann raises both her hands, palms a scorching red color, “at these and look me in my eyes again. I dare you to say that again, honestly.”

 

“Scratch out that last statement.”

 

Ann giggles, in spite of herself. What a nosy, sweet idiot.

 

“Alright, you win,” Ann stands up, patting the dust off her skirt and leggings. “I’ll talk, but let’s go somewhere else first. I think all this crap is making me hungry.”

 

The supposed delinquent perks up. “Big Bang Burger, then?”

 

“Is that really the first thing you think of? Out of all the good restaurants in Shibuya, you choose Big Bang Burger.”

 

“Hey, I’m new in Tokyo… and I don’t have that much money.”

 

“Oh. So, basically, you’re broke.”

 

“I'm… yes, but you didn’t have say it.”

 

After telling the “delinquent punk” Kurusu about Kamoshida, some weight lifts off her chest. It’s not enough to provide complete relief. Ann knows the burden won’t leave until Shiho, and all of Kamoshida’s victims, are safe.

 

Despite that hurt, talking with Kurusu alleviate her. Someone who supports and, finally, listens.

 

Now all it takes is to stand her ground and get more help. Ann could even ask her mother and father to take legal action. Ann knows her mother’s words cannot be brushed away from the principal's stubborn refusal to fire Kamoshida. The pervert’s threats feel empty now. Fragile like ashes.

 

For a strange reason, Ann doesn’t mind the unintentional end of her phone. She didn’t need to call the bastard back anyway. She’ll show him who the _real_ hero is.

 

* * *

 

 

In the past, Akira couldn’t care less about heroes.

 

It wasn’t as if he had an active, unrelenting vendetta against them. Akira respects that heroics is a tough, unrelenting profession.

 

No, Akira doesn’t care because he’s tired of its constant coverage and the fanatic, zealous community around them. About how, no matter what class or club he tries to engage in, every casual conversation leads into, “Oh, have you heard what insert-hero-name-here did? Isn’t their quirk so cool? I wish I had a quirk like them.”

 

Akira has to hold back the “you should be _grateful_ for the quirk you have now,” and the “better to have a useless quirk than none at all.” He was constantly, and irrationally, pissed. Maybe it was jealousy that at least _they_ had a chance to become heroes. Either way, it’s obnoxious.

 

Maybe Akira’s bitter opinions and lack of knowledge about heroes is one thing, but at least he expects them to help when it’s necessary. There are an abundance of them, after all.

 

But, everybody didn’t notice until seconds before Suzui Shiho stepped off the roof.

 

In a school with a heroics course, with working hero teachers and aspiring student heroes, not one managed to save Shiho. None of the collective students, a variety of quirks ranging in power and versatility in their hands, moved.

 

Only Ann immediately runs to Shiho’s side.

 

Akira abruptly leaves his seat and sprints through the hallways. He shoves past increasing number of bystanders. They crowd around Shiho in morbid curiosity, some looking through the lenses of their phone’s camera. Shaking off brewing anger, he looks around again. Why aren’t the teachers doing anything?

 

Why didn’t _he_ do anything? Akira bumped into Shiho yesterday at school. He should have said something to her. Out of all people, he should have been able to recognize the bruises, the small smile that never reached her dulled eyes, the subdued and melancholic tone.

 

Shiho looked like Akira two weeks before he moved to Leblanc.

 

Akira stops his train of thought. It’s no time for self-pity or regret. Someone needs to do something.

 

Ann already entered the ambulance with Shiho when Ryuji catches up to him. There was a beat of silence between the two.

 

“Shit, why didn’t anyone but Takamaki-” Ryuji stops mid-sentence. Akira looks at Ryuji as the blonde suddenly scans the area. “... Where’s it coming from?”

 

“What?”

 

“Guilt. It’s not the normal kind.”

 

The implication clicks. Ryuji makes direct eye contact with Mishima. With obvious panic, the bruised boy flees from the crowd. Ryuji and Akira run after the suspect, inching closer to the teen’s back with every second. It didn’t take long before Ryuji caught up and cornered Mishima at the end of a dead-end hallway.

 

While Akira catches his breath, Ryuji snarls at the cowering boy in all his furious glory. Ryuji starts, expelling as much venom into his words as he could muster.

 

“ _Explain_.”

 

Mishima shakes his head. “I-I don’t know anything!”

 

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Ryuji snaps. Mishima winces.

 

Ryuji pauses for a brief moment as he stares at the teary-eyed hero student. The blonde’s brown eyes loses its edge and his tone softens.

 

“Mishima, I’m sorry. I’m not going to hurt you, but… Suzui tried to kill herself. It’s not the time to keep things to yourself because you’re afraid.”

 

“Just talk,” Akira speaks up, his voice low and neutral, void of the rushing negative emotions that threaten to purge his impassive mask.

 

“I…” Mishima bites his bottom lip, its color paling to a painful white. The dam breaks. “Kamoshida told Shiho to come to his c-classroom yesterday. I… I was t-told to get her and she went there.

 

“Kamoshida looked especially angry that day a-and I…” Mishima whimpers, sinking further into himself. “I can’t i-imagine what he d-did to her. I’m sorry, it’s all m-my fault, I didn’t want to be a-at the end of that t _-torture_ a-a-again.”

 

Akira and Ryuji stand quietly as Mishima weeps, shoulders trembling with hiccups. “I-I’m s-sorry! I shouldn’t h-have been s-so _selfish_ , and now S- _Suzui_...”

 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Ryuji responds. “We all know who’s fault it is.”

 

He walks away, steeled with vehement and livid resolve.

 

Akira couldn’t stop the small, passionate, “ _Shit_ ,” as he dashes towards the pro heros’ office.

 

The confrontation doesn’t go any better than what Akira envisioned.

 

* * *

 

 

“Whatever you’re planning to do against Kamoshida, I want in.”

 

To be fair, Akira should have more foresight on where they should have Metaverse talks. Maybe it’d be better to take note of that. Maybe. At least Ann is the one person in the entire school that won’t rat them out.

 

Ryuji crosses his arms, trying not to squirm under Ann’s intense gaze. “Takamaki… We don’t want you to get involved.”

 

“Tough luck. I don’t give a damn,” Ann spits back. “You out of all people know how I feel about Shiho.”

 

Ryuji winces. “Look. Don’t bring my quirk up, alright? And even if I do know how you and S-” Ann’s eyes continue to burn into him, “- _how serious_ you are about this, it’s way too dangerous. And-”

 

“ _Sakamoto Ryuji_. Out of our entire grade, I arguably have the most versatile quirk for battle. You know this,” Ann directs herself to Akira, nonchalantly flicking Ryuji’s opinion off her shoulder. “You’re the one in charge, right? My quirk can heat up all or any part of my body past temperatures that melt steel. You’ve seen it before. I have fine control over where to direct it, so I can burn without killing someone. If you’re going to fight Kamoshida directly, I’m a great asset.”

 

Ryuji tosses Akira a desperate look. Then Akira looks over to Ann, her presence exerting an aura of finality. Akira smiles. “We do need another teammate.”

 

“D-dude! For real?” Ryuji slumps in place, shaking his head. Akira could hear Morgana cackling out of sight. He mutters under his breath, “I thought you were on my side…”

 

“Well good, ‘cause I was going to nose in regardless,” Ann shifts her weight onto her other foot and puts her hands on her hips. “What’s the plan? Destruction of property? Blackmail?” Her voice drops dangerously. “A third-degree burn?”

 

Ryuji slowly inches away from her. “As much as the bastard deserves that, we can’t possibly do that without getting caught. We’re-”

 

“We’re going to steal Kamoshida’s heart!” Morgana shouts, his physical form slipping out of Akira’s shadow. “Jeez, you guys made me hide in there for too long. The sun’s starting to go down, you know! But more important matters: I’m glad you made the decision to let Lady Ann join!”

 

Ann blinks. “Is that the stray cat everyone’s talking about? How did it appear from the ground? Does it have a quirk? Wait, could animals have quirks…?”

 

“Well, this dumb cat does,” Ryuji mutters under his breath.

 

“Hey! First of all, I’m human. Secondly, I heal your reckless butt in the Metaverse _all the time_ , and _this_ is how you repay me? Next time you’re about to knock out, don’t go whining to me!”

 

“This… is probably not the best place to talk about this,” Akira sweeps the area. No one else is close enough to listen in or pay attention. “Let’s go to the school roof and tell Ann about it. Morgana, get in my bag.”

 

“Wha- No! I’ll just use my quirk to get to the roof. It’s probably gross and stuffy in there!”

 

“Morgana, we can’t risk you getting caught.”

 

“Ugh…”

 

* * *

 

 

There’s a certain thrill about infiltrating Kamoshida’s Palace. While ambushing the Shadow guards and pocketing small valuables from vases and tables, Akira feels at home, confident with his innate stealth and merciless battle tactics.

 

Messing with people’s cognition is probably illegal, but Akira couldn’t care less. Akira and his makeshift team serve justice when the law had failed to serve.

 

And it gives Akira intense satisfaction to destroy conjured soldiers in Kamoshida’s mind.

 

Ann holds her own in battle without a persona, with her overheating fists burning through Shadow’s skins like cheap putty.

 

“Oh wow! Good job, Lady Ann!” Morgana compliments, his sword resting on his shoulder. “That shadow’s gone for good, just what I expect from a hero-in-training.”

 

“Thanks Morga- I mean, Mona!” Ann skids to a stop as they walk through the red carpeted hallways. “Wait, shouldn’t I have some sort of codename?”

 

“Does it matter?” Ryuji replies dryly. “We base ours off our masks, and we get that with our personas. You’re persona-less, so...”

 

“How about ‘blondie’?” Akira teases as he scans the area for any more guards. They’re clear now; there probably won’t be replaced Shadows in a while.

 

“Okay, not only is that rude, you’ll confuse me and Ryu- Skull. Even if he’s a fake blond.”

 

“Hey!” Ryuji shouts indignantly. “At least I look good in this color.”

 

Ann flips a ponytail behind her shoulder. “I beg to differ.”

 

While Ryuji and Ann continue to bicker about codenames and acceptable hair dyes, they venture into the castle’s library. Akira switches to his third-eye vision, and three crevices in the bookshelves glow in his perceptual vision. He internally pats himself in the back for choosing to carry those important-looking books.

 

When he inserts the books in their respective sections, something clicks and whirs. Two bookshelves split apart, revealing a secret room.

 

“What the hell? How?” Ryuji staggers, before composing himself. “Well, I guess it isn’t that weird to see secret passages and crap in a castle.”

 

“I have to agree with R- _Skull_ here, but it’s still something else to see it happen-”

 

Ann stops mid-sentence, her feet planted before the doorway of the hidden room. As Mona peers inside the room, a sickened scowl spreads across his face.

 

“Lady Ann, you don’t have to be here. You can keep guard while we search the room.”

 

“No,” Ann replies sullenly. “No, I… I’ll be fine.”

 

“Hey, what is-?”

 

Ryuji’s voice fails on itself as his eyes lands on the wall. Akira enters the room and discovers that the walls are pinned with suggestive pictures of various students, candles ominously illuminating them from a shrine.

 

Akira could notice some of them, from the hero division to sports teams. The camera shot them when they weren’t paying attention, from down their shirts to changing into PE and team uniforms. Watching them eat and chat with friends. Walking from class to class. Exercising and playing sports.

 

His stomach drops when he notices a picture of a black-haired Ryuji, in the midst of taking off his gym shirt. The sick worsens when he sees a picture of himself, momentarily stretching his back in the middle of a sparse hallway.

 

The pictures increase in number towards the center of the wall. The center pictures are all of Shiho.

 

Akira pushes his rampant emotions down, waiting to be unleashed with his personas’ wraith.

 

He turns to his teammates. “He must have kept a key here. We need to move on.”

 

“Yeah,” Ryuji swallows after his thick silence, a lump painfully traveling down his throat. “We… We already knew that Kamoshida was a sick bastard. Let’s bring him down, fast.”

 

Ann nods tersely, her fists bright with heat. The candles in the rooms melt faster and wax trails down the mahogany tables.

 

Morgana tosses a concerned look at them all before nodding to Akira. They search through the desks and shelves, pocketing a map, a key, and some spare valuables.

 

Suddenly, a door slams open from the library’s entrance. Kamoshida, surrounded by a group of guards, enters the library. Before he could utter a word, Ann steps towards Kamoshida’s shadow, footsteps burning the shoes and carpet underneath her.

 

Her eyes turns a blazing, radiant gold.

 

“I’ve had enough of your abusive, manipulative _bullshit_.” A red, cat-like mask appears on her face. “I’m gonna burn everything dear to you until you only taste ash.”

 

Once Ann tears her mask off, the victor of the battle is clear as her soul. Carmene grins behind her and brandishes a man-puppet as a flail.

 

* * *

 

 

Kirishima Eijirou devours his lunch ravenously. Oh god, if he could send his life savings to Lunch Rush, he would in an instant. That’s an exaggeration, but that’s how he feels at the moment. The hero to Kirishima’s empty, void-like stomach.

 

While he tears up at the heavenly noodles and side dishes, Kaminari and Ashido chat beside him.

 

“I mean, it’s okay if some people grow distant became you go to different schools now,” Kaminari points at Ashido with his chopsticks. “We’re all pretty busy, and we don’t get to see old classmates as often as we used to.”

 

“I know, I know. It’s natural and all, but...” Mina sighs into the palm of her hand, obviously discontent with something, or someone. “I’m actually more worried about her, is all.”

 

Denki cackles. Ashido playfully punches his shoulder, earning her a small “ow.”

 

“Okay, ouch, I get it. It’s just, I didn’t see you as an overprotective friend type, is all.” Kaminari tries to diffuse the situation, his hands up in measly defense.

 

Ashido frowns. “I’m protective for good reason.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“She’s being abused and harassed by a teacher.”

 

Kaminari’s smile fades, his face concerned and shocked. “Seriously?”

 

“As serious as I can be,” she says, twiddling with her chopsticks. “Look, I want your input on something.

 

“Is it okay to interfere in something you know you shouldn’t interfere in? Even though you know you’re doing the right thing? Because that’s how I feel about this.

 

“I’ve known Michi since elementary school, and the last time I saw her, she was injured and limping. She told me how her heroics teacher basically uses her as a punching bag. Then, just a few days ago, an upperclassman of hers tried to commit suicide. That girl had the same teacher and obvious bruises.

 

“Michi told me not to spill and tell the authorities, but isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? I mean, sure, the teacher is an ex-hero himself, but… this doesn’t excuse anything. It shouldn’t even be considered that an abuser should be above the law because they’re a hero, right? I don’t want her, or anyone with that teacher, getting hurt.”

 

Kaminari sinks in his seat and scratches his head. “Oh god, those are some tough questions. Are you sure you’re as dumb as I am, Ashido?”

 

Ashido grins a little before it falls flat. “Thanks, but… please answer this. I don’t exactly want the teachers knowing about this until I figure this out.”

 

“I guess,” Kaminari hesitates before diving into a response, “we need proof, yeah?”

 

“What do you mean ‘proof?’” Ashido snaps, clearly upset at his reply. “Isn’t Michi’s own word enough proof?”

 

The boy shakes his head. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant! I mean, I guess? I dunno, it seems kind of hard to pin this down with only one person? And an ex- _hero_ doing _that_ to students? That’s a little outlandish to me, not that I don’t believe you. Shouldn’t we have, I dunno, recorded video or audio evidence and stuff like that?”

 

Before Ashido goes for Kaminari’s throat, Kirishima attempts to pacify by finally joining the discussion.

 

“Look, guys. I don’t agree with Kaminari. And I don’t agree with you too, Ashido. Isn’t it Michi’s choice to confess for help? I don’t think she’d be happy with you trying to solve her problems like that. I know you have the manliest attitude about this Ashido, but we might need to look into this deeper, like what Kaminari said.” Kirishima gives Mina a reassuring, calm smile. “Once Michi decides to open up to the authorities, they’ll help. We’re not qualified heroes, or even adults. If it doesn’t happen, we’ll jump in when it’s absolutely necessary.”

 

Ashido’s mouth thins. Her words come out crisp and short.

 

“Ah. I see.” She murmurs a small, “So how long are we waiting ‘til it’s ‘necessary?’”

 

Kirishima internally panics. “It’s- your heart’s in the right place, Ashido, I-”

 

“I get it. It’s alright. See you guys tomorrow.”

 

As Ashido picks up her half-finished tray and walks towards class, Kirishima internally punches himself. So much for being a manly hero and bursting into situations headfirst, with clear resolution about what’s right and wrong. Maybe Ashido was in the right, for her friend’s safety. Is this why Mina is more fit to be a hero than his own bland, cowardly personality?

 

Kirishima loses his appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY.
> 
> I... should be very sorry with how late this is. Three months? That's an unnecessarily long amount of time. My motivation is not only feeble, but lacking.
> 
> Life happened. It sucks. I'm not gonna rant about it, because I know it's not that much of an excuse with how late I updated. But hey, at least I updated? Eh, I'll be better about it. My high school experience will be drawing to an end, so hopefully, I'll have more time for fun times. And by fun times, I mean writing characters in pain and playing Stardew Valley. It'll be a blast.
> 
> Again, I do not have a beta reader. (I wish I had one.) If you notice any blaring mistakes, please please PLEASE comment about it, and I'll polish it up.
> 
> Thank you for your support and comments! I do read them all, and I do get anxious about replying to them! Just know that those comments drive me to write this and I appreciate all of them :')!!


	3. Journal Entry 3: wow, things went a lot better than expected!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira strikes a deal, the Phantom Thieves are a go, and the police are having a difficult day.

Mei Hatsume couldn’t be any more bored.

 

She made it into the support course in UA, which is perfect! Mei gets a rush of adrenaline to compete with other competitors, heart pumping and onwards. But, she can’t drive herself to do the best with an infuriating inventor’s block.

 

Well, if she’s caught in rut, then back to the fundamentals it is. Mei takes those weekend shifts from Iwai’s airsoft shop.

 

Sure, the sketchy middle-aged man is reluctant in letting Mei intern there again, but she is an unstoppable force. And that gruff, not-so-secretly-soft old man is no immovable object. Besides, Iwai knows she’s supplying her own inventions to him in the near future, so his opinions are invalid.

 

She disassembles the last piece of a model FR F2 sniper rifle and scribbles in some notes in her glittery composition book. As she examines the pieces of the rifle’s scope, the front door opens with a jingle.

 

It’s a teenager. Approximately the same age as her, if not an year or two older. Odd... and interesting. Usually boys his age won’t go waltzing in the Untouchable in broad daylight. Maybe he’s a curious passerby? An avid gun-enthusiast? A cosplayer?

 

Well, whatever. Time for her gig. Mei dusts her gloves off with a few claps.

 

“Welcome, dear customer, to the Untouchable!” She shouts with enthusiasm. “How may I help you today? Would you like to see the catalogue for our finest, newest model guns? We have all the basics, as well as real-to-life tools that heroes use today! Are you interested in some of our own, custom-made weaponry? Either way, whatever you want, we have or will supply!”

 

The boy blinks. “Oh, are you a part-timer? I wanted to look through the catalogue again.”

 

“Go ahead!” Mei grins, eyes turned into upward crescents. When he walks towards the counter, she hears a small meow. She zooms her vision towards his backpack. It shakes.

 

Is there a cat in his school bag?

 

“I do apologize, my wonderful consumer, but pets are prohibited in shop,” Mei chirps, hands clasped together. “We wouldn’t want a possible mishap with our valuable products and other customers.”

 

“He’s a... service animal.” He quips.

 

“Ah, I see. Then, why did you stuff your service animal in your bag?”

 

“He likes it in there.”

 

“I see. Well, I’ll give you a benefit of the doubt,” a grin creeps slowly on her face. “But… you’re going to be my test subject, and I’ll prevent Iwai banning you.” The boy stiffens. Mei nonchalantly writes in her notebook. “He’s not so fond of cats, after all. And you seem like a regular now, aren’t you? How many times have you snuck in your ‘lovely service animal?’”

 

The curly-haired teen crosses his arms. His eyes sharpen, narrow and calculating. Oh, how interesting!

 

“And your terms?”

 

“You’re going to use some of my prototype tools and give me accurate feedback. I’m not giving you weapons. I only want to test if some ability-enhancing equipment works in an average daily-life basis.” Mei’s low on testers, other than herself. Plus, she can’t use herself as the standard user for her inventions; she already knows how to use them. She needs new blood.

 

“What if I decline? Can’t I go to another airsoft store?”

 

“And where else would someone under the age of 18 get model guns in Shibuya?”

 

“...”

 

Aaand new blood fell into a trap of his own doing. Lucky her!

 

Mystery boy puts a hand on his chin, before nodding to himself.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

 _Perfect_.

 

* * *

 

“Just as I started getting used to being Takemi’s lab rat, I got dragged into another cage. With blackmail.” Akira groans as the back of his head hits the pillow.

 

Morgana’s ears lower, his tail sagging on the floor. “Sorry, Akira. I shouldn’t have took that nap…”

 

“It’s not your fault, it’s my own lack of foresight. My luck’s never been good.” Before his thoughts could trail into gloom, Akira shakes his head and continues. “Besides, I think we can benefit from this new connection.”

 

Morgana’s head perks up. “What?”

 

“She already gave me something that might help.” Akira pulls out a pair of seemingly innocuous knee guards and shoes. “Let’s see if I can fall from one-story buildings and move up from there.”

 

“Joker, no!”

 

* * *

 

Stealing Kamoshida’s heart went as smoothly as Ryuji thought it would. Which is, not as bad as it could have been. Maybe he should have been more confident, but he’d be lying if he said he thought they’d all end up 100% okay.

 

Sure, the four struggled to fight that disgusting, bulbous monstrosity that was Kamoshida’s true shadow. They managed to slam him into the carpet floor with their personas and badass new weapons.

 

And yeah, he might have almost died from the collapsing palace due to his leg injury. His muscles are screaming and he kinda wants to sleep on the concrete floor. But he lived, so hey! Things went alright.

 

Ann didn’t kill Kamoshida, which was a bit surprising, considering all that Kamoshida has done. Damn, if Ryuji was Ann, he would have turned Kamoshida to dust. Kamoshida broken his leg and ruined his future, but if he had assaulted someone Ryuji loved…

 

Still, it gave Ryuji some peace knowing they might have not killed him. Even though he’s a complete shitbag who deserves to go to hell.

 

Ryuji sighs to himself. The more Ryuji thinks about how he feels about killing or sparing Kamoshida, the more his head aches.

 

Another one of the many downsides of his quirk: literally everyone else’s feelings makes more sense than his does. His mind automatically labels them, distinguishes them in font-like handwriting and organizes in neat little manila folders with color-coded tabs. Ryuji’s emotional shit sprawls on the office floor, covered with shoe prints and wrinkles. He has to collect them into a pile by himself and read his chicken-scratch bullshit.

 

“Ryuji? You’ve been quiet. Is there something wrong?”

 

Ryuji snaps out of his train of thought. Ryuji didn’t notice when Akira’s satisfaction and relief turned into concern, as well as Ann and Morgana’s rising itch of curiosity.

 

“Oh, it’s no big deal.” Ryuji reassures him, lightly elbowing Akira’s side. “I was dozing off there for a sec.”

 

The itch immediately faded. Ryuji sighs in relief.

 

“C’mon, you idiot _,_ ” Morgana whines, flicking his tail in irritation. “I’m _not_ going to explain what I just gone over. But... I guess we’re all pretty exhausted. Good work everybody. All that’s left is waiting and being patient.”

 

“If waiting is all we can do, I guess I can deal with it.” Ann smiles warmly through her fatigue and worry. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

 

Ryuji watches Ann leave and his face pinches with worry.

 

Takamaki was bathing in scorching rage for the past week. The strangest part was that it was directed to both Kamoshida _and_ herself. It’s a topic that Ryuji is scared of touching… He’d rather not reenact another ‘middle school incident.’

 

After the fight and the escape, Ryuji’s heart lightens along with Ann’s, and having that boulder lift off her is something worth feeling. Regardless, it doesn’t help that those loathing emotions haven’t completely left Ann. Ryuji would like to help, but is it his right to? Does Ann continue to see him as a friend worth confiding in? Trusting? Ryuji hopes she does after entering Metaverse and defeating Kamoshida, but he tends to be naive with the prospect of forgiveness. And, in general, friends.

 

Before Ryuji leaves to his apartment, Akira walks besides him. His worried emotions haven’t dialed down a bit. Ryuji’s sags in place. Damn it.

 

“Still dozing off?” Akira asks, kicking a can from the sidewalk. “You’re going to bump into something if you aren’t paying attention.”

 

Ryuji cracks a smile. “Dude… We ran for our lives for a solid minute. And that’s after that life-or-death fight we had with Kamoshida. Don’t blame me for getting tired.”

 

“Oh right. I almost forgot about that,” he smiles and pulls a few bills out from his pockets. “You want a drink? We’re should walk to the station together.”

 

Morgana pokes his head from Akira’s school bag. “Oh my god, Akira, why aren’t you walking towards Boss’s right now? Leave the loser and let’s get going!”

 

Ryuji’s too tired for this crap. “Yo, Morgana? Can you… go away?”

 

“Wha-? What does that even mean? How rude!”

 

“I meant _for now_ , not forever.”

 

“It sure sounds like the latter.”

 

Akira peers at his back and smiles apologetically to the human-turned-cat. “Sorry, Morgana, but can you head back towards the station first?”

 

Ryuji didn’t knew that cats could roll their eyes before now. Or at least make truck-loads of sass and annoyance flare off of a tiny feline body.

 

“Fine. But you better be there in thirty minutes!”

 

“Thanks, mom.”

 

Morgana hisses in retaliation and saunters off.

 

“Sorry about that, I forgot that Morgana practically runs my life now.” Akira deadpans.

 

“I thought you were the boss of the Phantom Thieves. So, technically, you should tell Morgana what to do! Including getting him off my effin’ back. I _swear_ , I don’t know what I did to make that gremlin hate me.”

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t call him a gremlin.”

 

“Eh, maybe.”

 

Akira spots a vending machine and contemplates over a choice. The mood shifts into something solemn, hushed.

 

“So… You think I should continue being the leader?”

 

The machine beeps and whirrs as it takes out two carbonated drinks. From his angle, Akira’s hair obscures his dark, grey eyes. He continues.

 

“Are we going to keep doing this? What we’ve done… If we all get caught, it’s going to really hurt us. We’ll get expelled and I’ll probably go to juvy, especially since I’m on probation.

 

“I’ll be honest. Fighting against injustice, stealing treasure, defeating scum like Kamoshida… It’s a complete blast. I’ve never felt like I’ve had _purpose_ until now. I won’t stop, even if you or Ann want to leave after this. I’m not telling you to back off, but I want to give you this choice. I don’t… I don’t want to burden you two.”

 

Ryuji’s brain stumbles over the right words to say.

 

Even with the possible expulsion overhead, the last week had been thrilling. Being a Phantom Thief, a true-to-god, criminal-punishing _hero_ , it’s all great. Every part of him screams for him and the others to continue what they’re doing. To relieve of all these negative, suffering emotions that bombard him on a daily basis, to feel Ann’s and his pain lifting from their chests; he’d do it all over again.

 

What’s stopping him from answering? Potential arrest? Breaking the law and his mother’s heart? Being a vigilante, and at worst, a villian in the eyes of heroes? Yes, Ryuji’s deathly afraid of that. Another lonely, despairing mom is the last thing he needs.

 

But when Ryuji looks into Akira’s eyes, Ryuji _understands_ him, determination buzzing under his skin, electric excitement bursting through his nerves.

 

Akira needs this. Ryuji can’t deny that he wants it, either.

 

“Are you trying to toss me and Ann under the bus? It’s like you’re begging for an ass-kicking from Takamaki, I shit you not. You don’t want to know the crap she pulled in middle school. She’s even hung up on that dolphin souvenir I never paid her back for, and it’s been _three years_.” Sakamoto’s brown eyes brighten. “You can’t take all the glory for yourself, greedy bastard. I’m stuck with you, whether you like it or not.”

 

Akira smiles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Ryuji can’t help but engrave the expression into his heart.

 

Akira tosses him a drink. Caught off guard, Ryuji fumbles as he tries to catch it as it falls to the floor. Akira laughs at the expression on his face, and Ryuji laughs with him.

 

Three days later, Kamoshida confesses his crimes in front of the auditorium. He turns himself in to the police.

 

Ryuji trades looks with Ann and Akira. He sees their triumphant expressions. It worked. And he had the feeling that Kamoshida won’t be their last target.

 

* * *

 

 

“‘Phantom Thieves of Hearts’, huh?” Detective Tsukauchi mutters, eyes trailing down the newspaper article. He puts down the paper, leans back, and rubs his temples. “I don’t think I can handle another group of vigilantes.”

 

His coworker pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I mean it probably isn’t, but this group is far more interesting than your average illegal quirk user.” The man taps at the paper. “A quirk that makes criminals confess and become good people by ‘stealing their hearts’. I pity the man that has this case.”

 

“It’s me. My case.”

 

Tsukauchi hears a stifled laugh. “Oh damn. Sorry.”

 

“You aren’t.”

 

“Well then, how should I answer? Good luck? Better get working?”

 

“Sure. Let’s go with that.” Tsukauchi grabs his coffee mug and takes a sip. He grimaces. It’s lukewarm. “The more concerning part is that Chief paired me up with the young ‘Detective Prince.’”

 

His coworker winces. “Yikes. They’re pulling out the big guns on this one. Hopefully this will be less of a headache compared to the last one.”

 

“Right,” Tsukauchi responds, folding the newspaper in half. “The kid and I will do fine.”

 

* * *

  

“So, all we need is a full name and they’ll appear in Mementos,” Ann looks her phone, tapping on Google Chrome. “You’re basically saying we can change the hearts of any villain in Tokyo, as long as their name’s online.”

 

Ryuji jumps in his seat. The momentum almost tips him backwards. “Holy shit. This is huge! We’ll be handing in villains left and right!”

 

“That is, if we can even reach them,” Morgana clarifies. “We’re only down nine levels, and I got a gut feeling that most big-shot villains are going to be way, _way_ down there. They might have their own palaces, too.”

 

Ryuji snorts. “And how accurate is your ‘gut feeling?’”

 

“Oh, Shut! Up!” Morgana huffs, tail fluffed in annoyance. “You get what I mean. For now, let’s take requests that we can work with. We save those names on a later date. If it’s a palace, then we have to grab more information about what their palace is and how they view the world. Stealing hearts will take more effort than a name and a boss fight.”

 

“Huh, you actually have a point there.”

 

“Since when have I _not_ made a reasonable point?”

 

“That’s good, then.” Ann interrupts and the other two snap their mouths shut. Her lips are drawn to a thin line. “We’re supposed to change hearts of those that the heroes and police can’t save. They weren’t going to act against Kamoshida. There’s probably hundreds like that bastard walking free around Tokyo. Villains masking themselves as ‘good people.’” Then a small smile slips on her face. “We have to be the heroes of the unseen, right? I don’t want anyone to end up like Shiho. Never again.”

 

Akira and Ryuji voice in agreement, and Morgana makes a triumphant noise.

 

“Well, I think we can count on keeping the Phantom Thieves alive and kicking,” Morgana’s eyes curl upwards, his chin raised high. “I have a good feeling about this, guys.”

 

* * *

 

Mina barges in as lunch break was drawing to an end, just barely making it a minute before class starts.

 

Sero flinches from the door slam. “Hey Mina, is something going on?”

 

“Oh,” she says before her smile widens even more. Her vibrant mood was so obvious, Sero thinks she upped into a brighter shade of pink. “You bet your flat ass something’s going on.”

 

“Ashido, langu-”

 

Iida didn’t get a chance to finish as Mina pushes herself in everyone’s attention span.

 

“Have y’all heard of the Phantom Thieves? Because, I got one heck of a story to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years...
> 
> Now I'm in art college. Guess who's gonna be a Real Good Artist, baaabyyyyyyy. Finally gonna sit down, cry over still life and figure drawings, and do photoshop shits.
> 
> On a serious note, I don't know when I'm gonna write/post the next chapter. This is a fun thing, and this chapter's been in the works for......... months. I felt even worse when I keep going on ao3 to read fic, and looking at my work's "Recent Update" date. Guilt is a good motivator. Don't worry though, I'm having fun! It's just hard for me to do this and create original work, too. I can't burn the candle on both ends, my guys.
> 
> So those are my excuses. Enjoy this chapter! Sorry that I've been basically neglectful and dead!


	4. Journal Entry 4: being tormented by ur friends is the first sign of true companionship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thieves have a fancy dinner, Makoto digs into the rooftop rumors, and Ryuji freaks out.

[DISCUSSION] Star Strike Found Guilty of Blackmail, Abuse, and Sexual Assault

 

[link] Kamoshida Suguru, teacher and former pro-hero Star Strike, used to be known as a prolific member of society, until he turned himself in a week ago. Spectators stated he was ‘begging for forgiveness’ and ‘receiving punishment for his actions. Police investigators and student interviews confirmed his disclosure of heinous crimes. Some are suspicious of his sudden shift in behavior and personality, speculating that the anonymous Phantom Thieves... (read more)

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[-] XxmegaburstxX    139 points

Alright, so who else didn’t see that coming. I couldn’t have been the only one.

 

[-] TitanStan    15 points

Yeah, you aren’t alone there. No kid should be put through that shit. To think that this guy used to be a hero…

 

[-] elmobinch039    20 points

i’m not too surprised, tbh. it’s not like heroes are perfect human beings. well, excluding all might, cuz he’s fucking All Might. of course some of them are gonna be crappy people.

 

[-] XxmegaburstxX    13 points

Yeah, but _Star Strike_? He was in the Top 50 for years before his knee injury… He saved a lot of people in his career. The whole community gave him the biggest send off when he stepped down. Are we going to ignore all the good he’s done?

 

[-] elmobinch039    15 points

uuuuuuh, he used his fame to abuse, blackmail, and rape his students. they’re practically kids. one of them tried to commit suicide. the fucker can die for all i care.

 

[-] XxmegaburstxX    11 points

Went a little extreme there, but you have a point.

 

[-] elmobinch039    24 points

kamoshida’s gotta kamo **go**

 

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[-] ghostmeta    55 points

So, are we not going to talk about the Phantom Thieves? A vigilante that has the quirk to criminal’s hearts? Sign Me the Fuck Up

 

[-] XxmegaburstxX    73 points

You know vigilante activity is illegal, right? They’re just as criminal as Kamoshida. Also, I doubt there’s a quirk like that out there.

Emotional and mental psychic quirks are already rare. There’s less than 1% of people who have it in Japan [link] [link]. Plus, having a quirk as invasive as “stealing distorted desires” and permanently changing someone’s personality? It’s impossible. It’s more likely that someone is blackmailing or threatening Kamoshida to turn himself into the cops.

I’m not saying that Kamoshida doesn’t deserve to have justice rain down upon him. But we shouldn’t believe that a silly anonymous team of “Phantom Thieves” is the root cause of this mess.

 

[-] ghostmeta    19 points

You’re prooobably right. But, let me have my fun and enjoy the idea of badass super-secret heroic vigilantes. pls.

 

[-] crackopenacoldone    40 points

me: even though i disagree with the fact that vigilantes are “as bad as villains” because they’re like unregistered heroes, he’s got a point. it’s highly unlikely that anyone can ‘steal hearts’ and blackmail probably done kamoshita in

also me: megaburst is [this](https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/731/143/3e3.jpg) you?? now shut up and give me that sweet Phantom Thieves Content

 

* * *

 

 

Oh my god, Ann hasn’t tasted quality sweets in _ages_.

 

There were brief moments in Ann’s past when her parents would take her to a fancy restaurants, where she would grant herself with one (1) slice of gourmet cake.

 

But _this_ is different. This is a buffet of wonders and unsupervised indulgence.

 

Ann’s gonna exploit this one hour special to hell and back. She has Metaverse treasures to thank the heavens with before stuffing her gorgeous face with premium chocolate.

 

“I’ve only felt you this happy when Mr. Himeno gave out free donuts after midterms ended. Then refused to give any to Mawatari and Yashiki,” Ryuji points out, picking the beef stuck between his teeth. “Odd time to experience that amount of joy, by the way. What did they do to you?”

 

“ _Look_. After that terrible group project, I deserve a reward for doing all the work. Which meant snitching on my garbage partners to the teacher. It was validating, I got what I wanted, and hey! Free food,” Ann points her fork towards the blond boy. “Don’t try to lie and say you weren’t as glad as I was.”

 

“Yeah, they were shit people.” Ryuji eyes the stack of plates. “Shouldn’t you be worried about your diet or something? As a model or whatever?”

 

“Shouldn’t I be getting 1800 yen?”

 

“What- that’s 600 yen more than that keychain cost!”

 

“It’s the interest. Also, it’s none of your business, _sardine boy_.”

 

Akira watches the conversation from the sidelines and mouths a short, “sardine boy?” before turning to Ryuji. “Sounds like a fun story.”

 

Ryuji skillfully dodges Akira’s inquiry. “Why are you so petty? You intentionally planted that info in Akira’s head, and now that’s never gonna die. Are you physically incapable of letting things go? What did I ever do?”

 

“With your natural attitude? Probably a lot.” Morgana adds, voice muffled by the bad’s fabric. He pokes his head out, stealthily grabbing more fish. “The gaudy t-shirt, dyed hair, loud mouth. You look like a teen with the word ‘troublemaker’ stamped on his forehead.”

 

“Shut it, cat.”

 

“For the _last time_ , **I’m not** -”

 

Then Ryuji tries to stuff more fish into the cat’s mouth. Unfortunately for the blond, Morgana's got sharp teeth and a fighting spirit.

 

“Alright, settle down guys,” Akira moves in to pacify his friends. He fails to hide his amusement. “We don’t want to get kicked out. It’ll be a waste of well-earned money. Y’know, the money from that thing we risked our lives for.”

 

Morgana huffs and narrows his eyes. “This isn’t over, pal.”

 

“Good kitty.”

 

“Inch a biiit closer so _I can claw your eyes out._ ”

 

“Boys?” Ann warns. The two stiffen and back off. “Thank you.”

 

Akira glances at Ann and smiles in thanks. She winks and crunches down on another crisp strawberry.

 

As the taste settles on her palette, a dark chocolate, bittersweet feeling settles in her chest.

 

“I haven’t had an outing with a group of friends in a while,” Ann says, setting the dessert plate on her lap. “It’d used to be only Shiho and me, with being ‘Kamoshida’s girl’ and all. I missed this. But I can’t help but wish that she’s here to enjoy this with us right now.”

 

A sullen veil laid itself on top of the teens. Ann shrugs it off while slicing another piece off her tiramisu. "Sorry, I brought the mood down there a bit. This is supposed to be a celebration. Everything went great! Shiho's awake and Kamoshida's arrested. I don't know why I'm not more upbeat. Satisfied."

 

Akira speaks up, eyes warm with sympathy. “It's alright to feel that way. This was a problem that should have been intervened with sooner, and we were the ones who had to fix it. She should have never been caught in the crossfire. When Suzui recovers, we’ll invite her to a group outing, if she’d like to. A celebration of sorts. Maybe we could all go to an amusement park. I read that it’s only a thirty minutes commute from Shibuya.”

 

Ann beams. “I think she’d love to. It sounds like a lot of fun!”

 

“We could buy her a get well gift, too.” Ryuji adds. “What does she like again, um- comics, so… a Featherman Parakeet Figurine?”

 

“Oh my god, uh, Ryuji?" Ann cracks up. Her laugh crinkles the sides of her eyes. "Do you think that Shiho’s still in middle school?”

 

“Hey! Featherman R is for all ages. Featherman Triple Q prequel gets real deep and the plot’s good too.”

 

“For now, we can save a slice of cake for her. It’s going to be alright.” Akira assures her, before taking off his glasses. “And he's right. Featherman is still relevant.”

 

There’s a brief pause.

 

“Dude, why’d you take off your glasses?”

 

“Dramatic effect?”

 

“What sort of social situation makes that _dramatic_ ,” Ryuji guffaws. “Is this a shoujo anime? Are you a real life person? No offense, but you lost a big chunk of my respect. Even with all those badass backflips and cool personas.”

 

“For once, I have to agree with Ryuji,” Ann laughs, tears pricking in her eyes. “‘Are you a real life person?’ This is a _legitimate_ issue. Also, I’m about 78% sure that those glasses are fake, which brings even more questions into light.”

 

“Fake glasses?” The fake blond happily adds more fuel into the fire. “Man, it’s like I’m seeing you in a completely different light now. Is it a fashion statement or?”

 

Akira pouts and put his glasses back on. An embarrassed flush covers his face. Ann almost feels bad for him. A _little_ bad. Nah, this is really fun.

 

“Wow, I did not risk my life, pawn an Olympic medal to a shady airsoft owner, and pay for a fancy buffet, all to be bullied by my friends.”

 

“Oh no no no,” Ann tuts playfully. “We’re doing this because we’re your friends. You need to realize that in no scenario are fake glasses acceptable in society.”

 

Ryuji sits on the edge of his seat, grinning from ear to ear. “Wait a minute, he didn’t _deny_ that his glasses are fake.”

 

“I thought they were kind of cool,” Morgana pipes up from the bag.

 

“Mona, you're a sweetheart, but don't say these things. It'll only encourage him.”

 

“Guys-”

 

* * *

 

Even with the rude adult customers and stomach pains, the playful dinner conversations and stream-like text messages clear Ann’s head of bad aftertastes.

 

Ann falls asleep the moment she lands on the mattress, heart warm and full.

 

* * *

 

Makoto Nijima walks up the stairs to the school's rooftop. She heard of rumors of people gathering at the top of the school buildings recently. Which is firstly, not allowed unless it’s for some school-authorized activity, and secondly, untimely after…

 

A pinch of regret brews in Makoto’s chest as she thinks about Suzui. She’s supposed to be student council president and _be there_ for her schoolmates. She should have done something.

 

But, the past is in the past. Makoto can’t go into a cyclical pity state. Focus.

 

Her eyes widen as she opens the rooftop door. A lively bunch of yellow, orange, purple, and white flowers bloom in a makeshift garden. A foldable chair and table has been neatly put by the side. A breeze brushes the plants. It almost looks like they’re dancing.

 

There’s a stout girl wearing a pair of padded gardening gloves. The sun lightens her fluffy hair, touching on warm brown tones. She turns out the creak of the door and bashfully smiles at sight of the student council president.

 

“Oh… I guess I’m caught in the act.”

 

“I’m afraid so,” Makoto says. “You do know that the rooftop is off limits, yes?”

 

The gardening girl laughs nervously, flustered. “Yes, I’m sorry. But the gardening club never really took off last year, especially since there was no space for this sort of activity, so I took it upon myself to make the space. For a small promotion.”

 

Makoto crosses her arms. “That isn’t an excuse to go against the rules. I’m not cruel to get you in trouble for this after one red flag, but this is the last time I’ll see you up here, alright?”

 

The senior student nods with a sad smile. “Of course.”

 

Makoto nods and curiously eyes the blooming flowers.

 

“... May I ask what they are?”

 

“Oh,” The garden girl shifts to the side, giving Makoto a full view of the colorful display. “There’s yellow roses, lilies, chrysanthemums, peonies, and daisies. I tried my best to accommodate to their individual needs, but I wanted to see if I could arrange them together. I’m glad it worked out this well.”

 

A smile lifts Makoto’s face. “It’s beautiful.”

 

“I’m glad you think so, too.” The fluffy-haired girl smiles back before looking back at the garden, pulling a stray hair behind her ear. “Things have been difficult lately, so I hoped growing some flowers instead of vegetables will brighten things a bit and bring good fortune.”

 

Makoto looks at the girl’s muted expression and her shoulders sag in defeat. “I’ll ask administration if you can have this space for the club. I doubt they’d say no in a few weeks.”

 

The girl blinks. “Oh no, you don’t have to; I can always find a new space. If it’s too burdensome-”

 

Makoto lightly shakes her head. “It’s alright. Asking for help is never a big deal. Besides, I highly doubt anyone else is going to need this space. Might as well put it into the hands of a reliable student.”

 

“... Thank you so much.” The girl slaps her forehead. “Oh my, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Okumura Haru. It’s a pleasure to met you, student council president.”

 

“And you as well, Okumura.”

 

“Call me Haru,” she giggles, voice pleasant and kind. “We’re in the same grade, after all.”

 

Makoto’s formality loosens, stiff posture lost to Haru’s friendliness. “Makoto’s fine. I mean, you can call me that. It’s better than ‘student council president.’”

 

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

Akira scouts the area for any suspicious figures from the edge of an alleyway.

 

Ryuji frowns by his side, looking at Ann fidgeting in place. “Can't she act a bit more natural? It'd suck if the creeper caught on.”

 

Akira lightly squeezes Ryuji’s arm, his attention stolen. “Now.”

 

The two pace towards the approaching stalker, stepping between Ann and him.

 

The stranger looks like a teenager in his crisp, white uniform, a black school bag slung over his left shoulder. He had attractive, slim features, and dark hair with a tint of blue.

 

But when the Akira looks, his attention draws to his eyes. It’s like there's a vibrant, neon blue film over them. His irises are a muted blue-violet mix and his pupils are a deep, mesmerizing black.

 

“Alright, why are you stalking Ann?” Ryuji scowls and crosses his arms. “Because this shit needs to stop.”

 

The stranger's eyebrows lift in surprise. “Stalking?”

 

“Yeah!” There's a brief pause as Ryuji gives the stranger another look. “... Yeeeah. Ann, you sure this is the guy?”

 

Ann glares at him with the force of a thousand suns. “Does it _look_ like I’m lying?”

 

Before Ryuji could answer, the stranger speaks up. “I apologize if it might have looked that way, but I wanted to ask her who _you_ are.”

 

Akira's brain sputters to a stop. When he turns to his friends, they seem to be as lost as he is.

 

“ _Me_?” Ryuji's voice cracks in shock, his face flushed in pink. “Are you for real?”

 

The stranger nods, eyes glistening with blunt honesty.

 

“Yes, at first I was interested in the girl, and she is no doubt a beautiful subject by herself, but then I saw you! You have a unique structural physique, regardless of your rather… questionable garment choices and color coordination. And your expressions! You have a genuine, unfiltered quality of expressions that pass through your face, ranging to the most subtle and soft, to intense in a matter of seconds. It’s bizarre and pleasantly surprising to see such depth in an unassuming person.”

 

“Are you f- Is this a joke?” The pitch in Ryuji’s voice is rising.

 

A dazed Akira hopes it’s some kind of convoluted prank. A social experiment, maybe. Anything but a scene plucked straight from a cheap romcom.

 

“Not at all,” the stranger bluntly proclaims, crashing them all even further into reality. “It’d be an honor if you’d be the next model for my piece!”

 

“What... is happening?” Ann says through her teeth, nudging his arm. Akira gives a slow, half-hearted shrug.

 

“I’ve always had models of what my sensei deems to be the closer to the ‘ideal’ versions of human beings, but I find you just as compelling,” the odd teen pulls out a business card and bows to Ryuji. “My name is Yusuke Kitagawa, an aspiring fine artist and student of Madarame.”

 

Akira and Ann perk up and give each other a look. The name that Nakanohara mentioned in Mementos. Akira recalls his dull, broken eyes, bitterly hissing about dreams crushed by a single mentor’s hand. Madarame…

 

Ryuji rubs the back of his neck, shifting weight between his feet. “Look, man, I’m flattered n’ all, but I-”

 

“He’d love to!” Ann shouts with a strained smile, an arm slung around his neck. “Isn’t that right? Sakamoto Ryuji?”

 

“He’d- I- _what_? What are y-?”

 

“You've made him a little embarrassed is all, but he's delighted. This is a wonderful opportunity. Yeah?” Ann tosses a not-so-subtle glare.

 

Ryuji’s posture drops a bit, and he elbows Ann’s side in retaliation. She clamps down on his shoulder. “Yeah, sure! Ow. I’ll be. Your model. I mean, whatever, why not?”

 

“That’s wonderful! I’m not sure how interested you are with the fine arts, so I was worried for brief moment. It seems like there aren’t any problems. If you need more persuasion, I’ll give you and your friends tickets to the next exhibition of Madarame’s works. I’ll be forever grateful if you decide to follow through.”

 

Akira settles with a small smile and a nod, incapable of doing anything else. Concern and a strange sort of panic swells in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Ryuji spends more time in the milk section than usual. Probably by five to ten minutes. As he picks up each carton to read the back, his mind wanders from the nutrition labels to the art exhibit he’s supposed to go to, and... And.

 

Was that guy flirting with him? Or was it more of a passive-aggressive slam dunk on his looks? But, it was mostly a very, _very_ flattering description of him. It might be the biggest compliment that Ryuji ever received, and doesn’t say that something about his life? Ah, fuck.

 

No, no, Ryuji picked up no romantic or sexual feelings towards that guy, so he’s gotta be telling the truth. It must have been Kitagawa’s intense passion that threw Ryuji off and impaired his judgement. The weirdo really likes art. Extremely. Almost terrifyingly. And people say Ryuji has a one-track mind.

 

One-track.

 

Track.

 

Damn, is he going re-experience all his past embarrassments in one go? Might as well have one in a relatively empty dairy aisle.

 

Someone hacks loudly nearby, coughs violent and patchy. Ryuji turns in alarm and walks towards the source.

 

“Hey, is everything alright-?”

 

There’s blood. Blood is coming out of this frail, zombie-like man’s mouth.

 

“H-holy shit,” Ryuji manages to sputter out, instinctively pulling out his phone from his jacket. “I’m gonna call 119, please don’t die-”

 

“No, young man, I’m quite alright,” the man responds and puts a hand up in a ‘halt’ motion. “This is a medical condition. It’s normal.”

 

The blood on his stark white shirt does not make a convincing argument.

 

“Um,” Ryuji eloquently states. His finger is a centimeter away from the call button.  “It is?”

 

“Yes. I’m sorry to cause such a disturbance.”

 

“Dude- I mean, sir, you are coughing your lungs out. You don’t have to be sorry about that.” Ryuji digs into his pocket and pulls out some crumpled napkins. “Here.”

 

“Thank you, young man.” The man takes them and wipes his chin. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

 

“It’s the, uh, least I can do,” Ryuji replies weakly. This was too much drama in one day. Why can’t he evenly split this crap in his life so his poor brain doesn’t explode with stress? “Do you need help with your groceries?”

 

"... That would be nice, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO GOT THIS DONE A FEW DAYS BEFORE A MONTH'S PASSED, BA-BEY!
> 
> Yeah I'm kinda fucked in one of my classes, though. But it's all worth it. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Please point out errors though, I kind of wrote this in an inspirational haze. (Plus, I have no beta reader.) It was fun writing it, unlike the paper-jam process of chapter three.
> 
> My boy Yusuke is here! I twisted up the events a bit to keep things *spicy*. I did not write this fic to simply reiterate the p5 experience, and this is a fanfic, so I'm gonna be as self-indulgent as possible. And that means probably spotlighting Ryuji a lot more than I should.
> 
> And I snuck in Makoto and Haru, 'cuz. They're too good not to write about.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: befuddledbun  
> Insta: nebulabun
> 
> Hit me up if you want to chat about my fic or Persona 5 and My Hero Academia! Or if you want to yell about updating this and my other fic. That's good too.


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